


shade my eyes in your shadow

by Riana1



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Father-Daughter Relationship, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-07
Updated: 2013-09-07
Packaged: 2017-12-25 21:29:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/957799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Riana1/pseuds/Riana1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Herc Hansen has stood in the shadow of Stacker Pentecost for half his career.</p><p>And considers himself blessed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	shade my eyes in your shadow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yuki812](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuki812/gifts).



> For http://guyue2snow.tumblr.com/
> 
> who wanted Hot Jaeger Dads together.

This is one moment.

Hercules Hansen met Stacker Pentecost a half a dozen times before: press conferences, tactical meetings, and one rather hilarious attempt at geese wrangling out of a hanger bay.

This is not any of those. This is your son, black eyed and bleeding lip, the third time this month. This is your son, hostile and holding a staring contest with far right wall. This is you, helpless and hopeless in a way that Sydney never did. You could not save your wife, a fact that grieves you and grounds you, but between you and your brother you dam well be sure that fact never happen again.

Holding a letter from your sister in law, you think you might not be able to save your son, except to send him away.

You don't see Stacker at first (he will not be Stacker to you for years to come), only become dimly aware of the shadow falling across your face, blocking out the harsh fluorescents, giving you time to blink.

"I need to speak to you about your son."

You will remember how the words vibrated into your bones. The choked apology, the rambling explanation of survivor guilt (did you mean your son's or yours), his issues, his aunt in Colorado-- Stacker stops you mid word with the slightest pressure of his hand on your shoulder.

You still.

"Your son bloodied the noses of three boys who decided that skirt flipping was an appropriate game to play on the new girl. Your son took on three opponents larger and stronger than him and was the only one still standing when the supervisors finally intervened. Your son has anger issues no doubt, but he has the drive and direction to stand up to bullies and come out on top. I think that this would be a better fit for a young man such as your son. At least it will give him a chance to fight under controlled circumstances."

Stacker hands you the glossy brochure for the Jaeger Academy and a heavy print out reading academy recommendation for Charles Hansen. You place the papers over the folded letter.

Stacker gives you a nod and strides down the hall and the harsh return of the hallway lights blinds you. You meant to call your thanks instead all you do is croak out a question.

"Why?"

Stacker turns. You will blame the tears on light sensitivity, a common complaint of the earlier pilots on the program, (you will remember the comfortable weight of his hand on your shoulder).

"The new girl, the one your son chose to intervene in her harassment was Mako Mori."

You can't anything say to that.

***

In the moment you drop the package in the mail slot you regret it. Vintage Sailor Moon in a black market alley in Singapore. A single remark over his ward (daughter) learning English from some old fansubs Tamsin gave Mako. 

A conversation you had with Stacker Pentecost over a month ago.

You get back a carefully choreographed thank you note (with better penmanship than anything Chuck could do on his best day). And a photograph of Stacker Pentecost in his dress blues posing in an artfully draped black cape with a beaming Sailor Mercury and her stuffed Luna cat.

You laugh so hard you wake your brother up in the top bunk.

Later you will preserve the note and the photo in the shoebox you take everywhere with you, tucked safe with your few surviving photos of your wife, the birth announcement of your son, and the ticket of the time you saw Australia in the World Cup.

(Later, a lifetime later, you will pour out the box on your bed and count out your dead in a string of keepsakes and wonder about all the moments you wasted never telling them how you loved them.)

***

You honestly don't remember much about that day. 

The Drift bright brokenness in that girl's eyes. The claustrophobic smell of vomit in your helmet. The split-knuckle red flecks on your face and arms. The heavy weight wrapped around you, and a low voice in your ear- at ease, soldier (he is not worth it Herc) stand down, ranger.

You remember the aftermath. The honorable discharge of Scott Hansen for actions unbecoming of a Ranger. The Breech deep void of even a whisper of you beating your raping piece of shit brother within an inch of his life in locker rooms in full view of half dozen witnesses.

You remember Stacker Pentecost laying a hand on your shoulder telling you he will take care of this.

You find out the same day Chuck Hansen is the top candidate out of the Academy to be your new co-pilot of Striker Eureka that a certain Scott Hansen was arrested with several kilos of illegal drugs in Montana.

It is the day Stacker Pentecost formally introduces you to Mako Mori.

***

 

The tile is cold against your skin. 

Stacker closes his fingers around your neck and you wonder if he can hear your pulse in his palms. He lays his head down to press against your forehead, eyes closed. You feel and hear Stacker breathing deep, a staccato starting and stumbling as you fist his cock hard.

You are wet and shivering and pinned to the shower by weight of a man burning you with every inch of shared skin. You can't see, only strain in the darkness of your closed eyes and fumbling hands and useless tongue- you flick your thumb over the sensitive tip of his cock and tremble at his full body shudder passes to where your hand curls on his hip.

Tamsin Servier was buried with full honors a week ago in Honolulu.

Mako Mori leaves tomorrow to Kodiak Island.

This is all the comfort you know how to give. This is all the comfort Stacker will allow.

You pump his cock erratically, frantic and tight as an untried teenager, and fuckin' come yourself when Stacker's seed splashes hot and hard across your stomach and thighs.

He cradles your head at either side as he spasms against you, holding you up with the press of his body.

You count every breath he takes while the world comes down around you both.

(This is one selfish moment you are allowed to not give a damn about the world; only the one contained between wet cold and burning heat, a benediction to the only god you ever allowed yourself to believe in, a confession you will never voice and a devotion you will never doubt).

 

***

This is the moment.

You pull Mako Mori towards her and hug her with all the fierceness of you can mange with only one working arm. "You did good, my girl. You did good. He would to so proud of you right now," you whisper into her ear.

"He loved you so much," and you can't finish, your throat closes up and your vision blurs.

Her back hitches and a wetness slides down your shirt.

You hold each other and try not to let the new dawn blind you as you look our from the hanger into the shining dark of the sea.


End file.
